The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-21 00:37:48 -

The Pale Bonsai

The rain fell in sheets, gray and relentless, against the high windows of the stone lodge. It was a Tuesday, or perhaps a Wednesday; the days had begun to blur into a single, wet monotony. I stood by the hearth, watching the embers die, feeling the cold seep into my bones. My name is Elias, though I have not spoken it in forty years. I am the Gardener of the Hollow. I am also, in the eyes of...

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